


Cthonic Hearts

by INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: All aboard the emoboi train!, Angst, Asexual Character, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Male Character, Confrontations, Death, Death as a Theme and Metaphor, Drinking to Cope, Drunken Confessions, EmoBoi Hades is lonesome, EmoBois everywhere, Emoboi Thanatos is thirsty, F/M, First Meetings, Historical Accuracy, King Hades is making shit happen, M/M, Meet-Cute, Multi, My Boys They are a-strugglin, No beta if I die Thanatos can have my soul, Origin Story, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Plague, Sneaking, Thanatos just wants the shades to rest, Worldbuilding, socioeconomic inequality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon/pseuds/INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon
Summary: A (relatively short-form) tale of how Death met the King, and what grew in the darkness before Spring arrived...And what happened long years later, when Spring and the King decided they wanted to try something... Peaceful...Written from an initial prompt and request from my bestie, which then spiraled into worldbuilding and pining and thirst to eventually get to what was requested! The (I think) only fic for ThanaPersAdes to date!Here. We. Go.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus), Hades/Thanatos (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Shadow and Sigh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rissaleigh49](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rissaleigh49/gifts).



> Hello, again, little ones! Swoonie is back with a brand new WIP - but with good reason!
> 
> My bestie and betafeeshy, rissaleigh49, requested a fic focusing on ThanaPersAdes (Thanatos x Persephone x Hades) before Christmas 2020. I didn't have time or Muses to do so right away, but the Muses have been working OVERTIME the last couple weeks on getting this going!
> 
> But, per usual, they couldn't just write the one-shot of smoots. Oh no. 
> 
> We needed to know HOW Hades could even ask Thanatos to join him and HIS WIFE in the bedroom post-LO canon whenever. 
> 
> We needed that relationship. The Muses demanded. There may have been knives involved when I tried to go around them...
> 
> Anyhoo!
> 
> So, this fic begins A LONG TIME before LO canon - specifically, on the first day young Aidoneus arrived in the Underworld. 
> 
> There will be angst, pining, thirst, and longing all through this fic. Each chapter will have additional front notes, per usual, and each update will create some new tags. 
> 
> Your final note - one chapter (to be written) will include Minthe - but it will be a self-contained chapter, and will be skippable if you so choose. Again, notes will be provided, as well as summary material should you skip. (And Minthe will not be likable. Trust me. Blech...)
> 
> Now that that's out the way - 
> 
> ONWARD TO THE EMOBOI FIC YOU DIDN'T KNOW YOU NEEDED!

Thanatos peered over the edge of the ridge, tucking his feathers more tightly to his back as the wind rose behind him. It skirled and danced over the lip of stone beneath him, drawing curls of dust into the air like foam from waves. The object of his intense focus stopped in the dry riverbed before him, and the breath dried in his lungs. 

The god was simply stunning!

Tall, statuesque, and lean, his long starlight hair hung past his waist; the heavy drape of his himation couldn’t hide the slimness of his hips, nor the length of his legs, nor the massiveness of his hands, though he kept them strictly at his sides as if afraid to touch anything around him. 

Thanatos wanted him. The god in the draw was like a maelstrom, a churning of currents that begged with violent desire to drown the one who looked on in hunger. The depths of his azure skin, the diamond of his silken hair: it was as if he’d stepped from the shadows of Thanatos’ midnight dreams, and in this halflight of a Cthonic day, there was no fear of him disappearing into smoke…

He’d been pursuing the god the whole morning, since his first distant glimpse hours ago; he’d just now gotten close enough to determine that indeed, he had never seen the god before. There was no doubt he belonged here, in this realm, though: there was a darkness in the feel of his auras that  _ sang _ , and Thanatos had known that song from his cradle.

Thanatos still had yet to see the god’s face, but everything in him knew it couldn’t be a disappointment. It was like Thanatos had been made to want this being; he doubted he could ever dislike anything about the god. 

_ Turn around… Let me see you, all of you… _

The god turned, and Thanatos strained over the ridgeline, stomach scraping stone, to see the being’s face.

_ … Gods Above and hells Below… _

Thanatos felt like his stomach had taken off with his wings and plunged from the highest peak above cloud-shrouded skies; he was beautiful, indescribable and so very desirable…

And also not alone.

_ Blast! What’s  _ **_she_ ** _ doing with him?! _

Thanatos couldn’t stop the miniscule growl that slipped past his teeth at the sight of Hecate standing beside the beautiful god, where Thanatos couldn’t have seen her before. She wasn’t interested in men, so why was she escorting this divine creature around, gesturing widely with her cerulean arm and showing him the sights as if she would impress him with her random knowledge of the landscape. It should be  _ him _ guiding the new deity around their land; after all, he’d been born here. Hecate had only arrived a few decades before from unknown lands Above; she was still learning, herself, for Darkness’ sake!

The wind lifted, pushing, insisting, and Thanatos’ wings were dragged against his will into the air. It was just a moment, a flash, but he knew Hecate saw it. He scrambled backward down the slope, panic urging him away from the scene of his embarrassment, until he knew he could stand and not be seen beyond the ridge. 

He stood and turned to dash down the hill, and ran into a patch of air that was suddenly solidifying into Hecate’s smirking form. The stone and dust did little to cushion his fall, and he uttered a thoroughly undignified yelp as his ass acquainted itself with the ground. The annoying creature just stood there, hands on her hips, ruffling her peplos and cackling at him. The golden band over her jet-shrouded brow flashed in the dusky light as she tossed her head. 

Thanatos scrambled back to his feet, thinking it would be better if he just flew away now, lance-straight and falcon-swift into the sky.  _ Get far away, don’t let him see… _

But that half-thought dream died as the beautiful god walked around the arm of the ridge, approaching cautiously with a worried look on his angular features. One of the being’s hands was fisted in the folds of his robe, and the other was tucked behind his hip. 

Thanatos swallowed his tongue at the glimpse of silvered scars on the god’s unswathed shoulder; the glinting lines were dancing down his chest to dive beneath the himation’s drape, were wheeling up the valleys of his neck to fade beneath his jaw.

_ Who could so harm such beauty…?! _

Pity warred with desire, and all of it struggled against the humiliation of being caught stalking and then fleeing, followed ever so delightfully by falling and rising once again covered front and back in grey dust. 

_ How can I even speak to him?! _

Hecate finally stopped her hooting at his expense, turning to the god and speaking more softly than Thanatos had ever heard from the chaotic goddess. “Aidoneus, this is Thanatos. He’s been around a while, don’t let those puppy eyes fool you. He’s positively  _ ancient _ .”

Thanatos stared in horror at the goddess before sputtering, “You lying little -!”

“Ah-ah-ah, now, now. Aidoneus doesn’t understand Primal, Thanatos.” She shook her head at him, condescending, and Thanatos’ mind screeched to a halt. He only now realized she’d spoken in the younger tongue, what the mortal shades he gathered called Greek, and he swallowed again before forging the rougher sounds on his tongue. 

“I… I am not  _ that _ old…” Hells, he sounded pitiful, petulant and whiny like a… well, like a puppy begging a morsel. Could he be any  _ less  _ appealing, any less attractive in this moment?!

“You d-d-don’t look that old to m-m-me…” The beautiful god, Aidoneus, spoke even more softly than Hecate, nearly whispering, but Thanatos felt his ribs spark and his heart fizzle inside his chest. Aidoneus smiled, the tiniest quirk of his lips to one side, and Thanatos felt his dust-coated knees trembling behind his robe. 

_ Dimples… Why does he have to have  _ **_dimples_ ** _ …?! _

Hecate took a step between them, breaking Thanatos’ line of sight; a flaring spear of rage bolted through him, though it died just as quickly with the shock he felt for his own reactions. The goddess peered too-intensely at him before turning partly to Aidoneus. “There’s a couple things I need to check with Thanatos here; why don’t you go wait for me in the draw again? I’ll be right there, and we can continue on…”

Aidoneus gave a microscopic nod, another tiny smile that left Thanatos tingling all over at the way the shadows played in his dimples, and then the god left the way he’d come. Thanatos felt himself leaning toward the god’s retreating figure, aching for him like flowers for the sun. He’d never felt this way for any bei-

“Stop it right this minute, Thanatos!” Hecate was right in his face too suddenly, and Thanatos stumbled back from the venom her words leveled at him. He flared his wings for balance and intimidation, crouching so he could spring away if she charged him. 

“Stop what?! Why don’t  _ you _ stop… whatever this is you’re doing!?! You don’t even like men, I know you don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything with him! I’m taking him to your sisters because if I’m right, he’s the King!” She glared at him in vicious triumph, and Thanatos’ chest went cold. 

“... What…?”  _ It couldn’t be… _

“All my readings and divinations told me a King was coming soon: one who bore within his flesh a pain no other divinity could understand, and one whom others of immortal kind would turn from in uncertainty. ‘A King the likes of which no Realm has ever seen, but one perfectly suited to the Eyes of Fates.’ I’m taking him to your sisters, because they’ll know for certain, but I’m positive it’s him!” She raised her chin with her victory, and Thanatos felt his dreams wither like shadow-grass under the sun. 

_ … If it’s true, he could never be mine… _

Thanatos barely heard Hecate over the bleeding in his soul as she continued on her tirade. “ - and I know that look in your eye, I’ve seen it often enough with those potamoi and all. You keep your hands off him; he is not for you!” 

The azure goddess spun on her heel and stalked away, her hissing words stinging like vipers in the gloom. 

_ … He can never be mine… _

Thanatos walked the dead river canyons for miles, and through the long hours, a tingling between his shoulders begged, pleaded, called him to follow an invisible thread of stardust back to the god he craved like water.

_ … Not mine… _

_ … Never mine… _

As the sun set in the realms Above, Thanatos felt the ripple through the Cthonic landscape; the very air shuddered with the claiming of a King. His knees found the dusty soil, and his tears turned the tendrils of mist around him into a haze of fog as he stared at the ground. 

_ … He’s meant for better things than me... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh, we do love our worldbuilding...
> 
> The next chapter takes us about a thousand years from this moment, and will be... very emo and angsty. 
> 
> We learn why Death and the King began to be confrontational...
> 
> We learn that sometimes, Kings make choices that others wouldn't make...
> 
> But perhaps, that's why they're Kings...
> 
> Much love, and enjoy the darkness, little ones!
> 
> -Swoonie and the emo-ish Muses in her headspace...  
> 2 March 2021


	2. Gain and Grudge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just a touch of set-up info is needed here. 
> 
> This chapter is a full millennium (1000 years) after the previous chapter. Underworld as a Kingdom has been growing, and the King is implementing changes in the way things function in his Realm. 
> 
> And Thanatos isn't liking any of it, not a bit...
> 
> This chapter does include some mild gods-wrath and temper, but nothing really goes too far. 
> 
> This chapter also - of course - discusses deaths of mortals and the inequalities of socioeconomic status. 
> 
> Finally - I should once again direct your attention to my worldbuilding. For this fic (and many of my others where Thanatos features prominently) I portray him as a "god of Older Kind." His power and the way he is put together is different from other deities we see - and more of that is manifesting here, in some longing and lust that he GENUINELY doesn't have a handle on. It's a struggle for the boi, and that's really coming through in this chapter - I hope....
> 
> Now that all of that is out of the way...
> 
> ONWARD INTO THE DARKNESS, ONCE MORE, MY LITTLE ONES!

Thanatos waited in the crowd, staring over the milling minotaurs, cyclopes, nymphs, satyrs, godlings and more at where Aidoneus stood on the dais in this echoing audience chamber. The dark stone walls, girded with iron and bracketed with steel, made music of the words that tore apart his heart. 

“Because of the ever-increasing intake of shades from the Mortal Realm, these changes will provide benefit to the whole of Underworld. Trade with Olympus only carries our economy so far; we will seize this vantage, and reclaim what our own Realm is due. The Advisor to the Throne, Hecate, will oversee the implementation of these new procedures, as well as the development of the new positions under the jurisdiction of the Crown. Anyone with suggestions or considerations is asked to submit their proposals in writing by the end of the season.”

The swelling murmurs were far from the desperation Thanatos felt in his own throat; they were excited, enthusiastic, at the golden opportunities their King was affording them. A chance for every being to make a mark, to hunt their own glory and wealth as the Underworld increased and grew…

To grow rich, on the backs of shade labour and the indebted dead…

_ How can he…? _

The crowd began to disperse; many formed a jostling queue before the azure goddess to the side of the dais, giving their names and skills to her flying reed-pen. The King himself moved quietly back on the platform, angling subtly for the door behind the throne he’d ignored for these announcements. Thanatos followed, flying into the air and sweeping over the heads of the throng, propriety and decency be damned. 

He caught the King in the antechamber; Aidoneus was adjusting his robe and crown with help from the looking glass, as if uncertain of their fit on his large frame. He’d filled out in the millennium since his coronation at the death-god’s sisters’ hands: his shoulders were broader, his thighs thicker, his chest as wide as plains and chiseled as cliffs.

Thanatos swallowed, tilting his head into the shadows of the entryway as he blushed. 

_ Not now! We don’t want him now, not when he’s… _

“Thanatos? Was there something you needed from me?” Aidoneus turned from the mirror, a steady blankness in his mouth and eyes. Gone was the quiet concern of those earlier days; it had fled, along with the smiling dimples and nervous hands. Where they had been, Thanatos saw only his King. 

“Yes. The-the-the shades… The c-c-coins!” His breath was coming too fast; he tried to slow it, but…

This was why he’d been careful, for  _ decades _ , to avoid being in close proximity to the cerulean god. Thanatos was sure now that at least half of his attraction to the beautiful being was some terribly strange, unnatural  _ pull _ of his own godhood to that of his King - that it was  _ because _ he was a purely Cthonic deity, one of the first, that he responded to the King as if he were an extension of the Realm itself. 

He could  _ feel _ his objections warring with an unwanted need to submit to the King’s decisions: could feel it, but wondered if he’d be able to stand firm on this. 

_ The shades, they need me to do this! For them! _

“... What about the coins, Thanatos?” Blast him: the god looked genuinely confused!

“Th-th-they don’t always have them! So many of the mortals, they don’t have coin, much less a whole obol to just… die with!”  _ Am I even making sense?! _

The look of confusion melted from Aidoneus’ features, and patient chiding took its place. “Thanatos, I know that; but the Realm needs coin to function properly. The immortal populace is becoming too concentrated to support in the long-term, and unlike the deities Above, we don’t receive adequate tithe while the mortals live. We’ll have to take what we can get, and those that don’t have it to spare when they die… They’ll be handled later, when the demand on our time and infrastructure isn’t so great.”

Thanatos could only blink as the King spoke, laying out his plan in even greater detail than he’d revealed to the assembled citizenry moments before. He licked his lips and tried to swallow the taste of grave-dust from his throat. “You can’t mean to m-make them wait, for  _ years _ , on the fucking  _ beach?!? _ ” Thanatos’ heart began to race at the thought: of shades who more often than not were poor farmers, herders, fishermen and trappers, buried without coin by family who had little but tears to spare - forced to exist in a  _ between _ state, unable to rest, unable to do anything at all. 

_ Until… what?! Until  _ **_he’s_ ** _ ready to deal with them?!!? _

A rumble rolled through the stone beneath Thanatos’ feet, behind his wings, overhead. Aidoneus’ eyes flashed from his sky-bright blue to a crimson so dark it looked like hearts-blood. “Mind your tone, Thanatos. Remember to whom you speak.”

The command from his King ripped like static through his limbs, but he forced the need to submit away. Violently, painfully, he pressed on. “I would like to remember, but all I can see is you  _ using _ them! Never mind that they’ve lived for  _ years _ , struggling to survive, aching to rest and be at peace, and now they’re told that, just because they weren’t some rich lord in a palace with coin to spare to throw into the dirt, they have to wait…! Have you forgotten what you promised me?! When I pledged my fealty to you, what did you swear to me, O Mighty King of the Underworld?”

Another tremor, and this one found a mirror in the tiny twitch of Aidoneus’ hand against his robe. “... I promised to care for the shades you and your sisters deliver into my keeping; to guard them from the ravages of life they’ve left behind, and provide for them a place to rest from their troubles and pains…”

“... How does  _ this _ fulfill that oath, Aidoneus…?” Thanatos struggled to keep the tears locked behind his eyes, but somehow, they shifted a hollow ache into his throat. 

Aidoneus was the picture of remorse, but even before the other god opened his mouth, Thanatos felt the  _ will _ of the King, behind his heart. It was like ice in his lungs. “It fulfills the oath. Not immediately, no, but it ensures that this Realm continues to exist. It ensures that the living citizens can continue to provide the required services they must: it keeps them fed. This Realm is indeed a resting place for the dead, but it is not only for the dead. Thanatos, I am King of more than the shades you transport. I must do this; I have no alternatives. Believe me, please: I’ve done the best I could…”

Thanatos forced the words he needed from the glacier his chest had become. “What happens when the mortals keep reproducing, and keep dying…? Will the beach ever be empty? Will there always be some poor shade, unable to rest…?”

“We’re going to do our best to keep the numbers manageable, Thanatos. There may be some… hurdles for the next few years, but we’ll work it out. I’ll keep you informed, I promise.”

_ … Just like you promised they could rest… _

Thanatos turned to go, his wings fluffing ineffectually to shield him from the cold; how could they shield him? The cold was already inside him… It took a few steps before he realized just what it was Aidoneus had said. 

“... The numbers…? They’re not  _ numbers,  _ Aidoneus! They’re people, souls, as much as you and I!” He spun around, indignation and righteous fury burning away the cold disappointment and despair. He would make this callous godling see! 

“A figure of speech, Thanatos! I’m not demeaning them!” Aidoneus held his hands before his chest, empty for now, but Thanatos felt the tingle of the King’s power; the bident was waiting, just out of reach through the aether, and Thanatos felt himself shrinking. His wrath burned to cinders in a heartbeat, blew away like ash the next; he was never able to stay angry long. Peace and rest were too much a part of him to be truly wrathful…

“... Don’t forget them, Aidoneus. Don’t forget to see them for who they are, not what they mean to your purse…”

Thanatos turned and left the antechamber, walking with long strides back along the passage to the audience hall. It was still scattered with immortals discussing the new developments to their livelihoods in their chosen country; Thanatos spread his wings and buffeted them all with heavy strokes of the murky air. 

_ They’re not just numbers on a scroll. They’re not just coins for a coffer. _

He angled for the door, tucking his wings and spinning like a drill through the portal without a backward glance. 

_ They deserve their peace… _

He swept his pinions wide, surging into the cloud-laden sky with beats that near-strained his shoulders. He darted to the cliffs overlooking the shores of Acheron, settling to the dusty stone with his left leg dangling past the edge. He watched the crowd below: milling like the living in the audience chamber, but slowly, hesitantly. Where the immortals were full of hope and new dreams, these poor little ones were uncertain, broken, lost on the edges of the place that should have been a new home…

_ They deserve their rest... _

It wasn’t right, nor fair, nor just; but he couldn’t defy his King. Even now, the tumbling thoughts churning through his mind scraped and bit and chafed like cockleburrs against the  _ need _ to obey, to submit to the way the King wanted things to be…

It wasn’t fair, but there was nothing more he could do. He could no more change his nature than he could breathe life back into a single expired cell…

It hurt. At least that much he could do…

_ I can feel your pain with you, little ones… _

_ I won’t forget this day… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch... my poor boi...
> 
> Okay, so, the next chapter - once more we time-jump a touch, about 500 years.
> 
> I do also need to provide a smidgeon of advance warning:
> 
> In the next chapter, the primary catalyst for some of the action takes the form of a plague sweeping through the Mortal Realm. This is not a choice made from a place of insensitivity to the current pandemic and all affected by COVID-19. My own grandmother contracted the virus, and it has left her a shell of who she was previously.
> 
> It is a choice made in a vein of historical accuracy. 
> 
> Plagues and pandemics and epidemics have been a part of human life for the entirety of human life. Of course, writing this in the midst of a global viral outbreak will filter through our current-events-focused lens; please grant me the leniency the Muses require for this tale...
> 
> Now, all of that said...
> 
> The next chapter is actually already written. Let's see how long I can hold off on binge uploading...! 
> 
> -Swoonie and hyperactive history Muses in her headspace  
> 3 March 2021


	3. Pining and Faux Pas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helllllloooooooooo, little ones! You're back again? So soon...?!
> 
> Oh, wait, this is my fault...
> 
> THIS CHAPTER!
> 
> Okay, look. Once again, this chapter features a plot-catalyst of a plague dispatching many mortals, and therefore there are feels and actions that spawn from that. This plot choice is made for historical accuracy, not out of insensitivity to the current global situation. Your understanding is appreciated. 
> 
> NEXT!
> 
> This chapter does include Thanatos ... getting really, really, REALLY drunk - the boi does a bit of a self-destructive binge, and...
> 
> Well, he does some shit he's probably gonna regret....
> 
> ... He also says some things he probably shouldn't have said...
> 
> ... Ooops...

Thanatos pushed himself away from the desk, toppling the pen-stand with the violent motion. He just barely managed to lunge in time to keep the inkwell from spilling over the desktop, but he still cursed violently in his original native tongue as the move pulled a tender muscle in his back. Tears filled his eyes instantly; not from the physical pain above his hip, though that was agony on its own. 

His heart was broken for the shades he’d brought into the Realm that day, and the day before, and the week before that, and the whole blasted month long! This plague was relentless, taking old and young, strong and weak...

_ So many, and so few with coin… _

He settled the inkwell back in its depression and folded his leather cover-sheet over the scroll to protect it. Rubbing his lower back to loosen the twinging muscle, he stood and sighed heavily as he plodded to the coat-rack behind the door. 

_ They’re not supposed to be just numbers… _

The alpha-numeric designation in the upper right corner of the scroll’s header flashed behind his eyes like the new  _ neon _ lights that were springing up on buildings downtown like moths in the Underworld nights. They, and all their fellows, accused him, berated him, left him feeling hollow and worth less than the paper his paychecks were printed on. He draped his scarf around his neck and his coat over his elbow as he left the dim office.

_ … I keep failing them… _

It chafed how little he could do for the shades. Five centuries had passed since King Aidoneus implemented the new procedures for freshly arriving shades; and in all that time, the younger god had only grown more distant. He wasn’t at all the careful young thing Thanatos had first met. 

_ Of course, my attitude probably hasn’t helped much… _

But honestly, what was he supposed to do?! Every time he went near the azure being, his body betrayed him in the only way it could process the soul-bound urges of his godhood: he lusted, craved,  _ wanted _ the god with everything he was…

And at the same time, his own morality and ethical feelings battled for dominance in his mind and heart; it all left him feeling torn apart and irritated beyond belief. 

_ … I can’t remember the last time I had a civil conversation with Aidoneus… _

_ Wait, um, Hades… He’s going by Hades now… _

He chuckled to himself as he pushed the button for the glass-walled lift that would take him down to ground level. 

_ Silly mortals, a name isn’t worth much… Trust me. I would know… _

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone who wasn’t his boss, his King, or his family had even said his name. His infrequent lovers never used it, leery of encouraging lasting attachment or drawing his more arcane attention. 

They couldn’t know - he wouldn’t let them know - that the only being he’d ever wanted to hear sighing his name in the night would never look at him that way. Never had…

Thanatos gritted his teeth as he entered the chiming lift and pressed the marker for ground. 

_ … I need a fucking drink… _

* * *

The tingling buzz had migrated from his head, down his throat, past his belly, and all the way to his toes, and he  _ loved _ it for that. The wine tasted bitter, but it helped the tingling keep spreading, all the same. The armchair suddenly felt too warm, so Thanatos stood and walked toward the kitchen counter. Along the way, the floor bucked; there must be a mecha-bull or something downstairs today, tearing up somebody’s apartment. He just must not be able to hear it over the buzzing in his ears. 

The bottle in his hand felt too light; he lifted it to where he could peer through the murky glass, and sure enough, it was down to drops. He put it beside the sink; somehow, it fell through the sink and clanked across the floor. The bottle had run the wrong direction, so he ignored it and went to the fridge. If it was so content to walk away, he’d chase it later.

Thanatos swallowed a hiccup as he opened the fridge, and then he whined. 

_ Out… Out of wine…?! _

His heart began to thunder behind his ribs; it was hard to breathe, the air felt thick and damp. Something floated in front of his eyes; cobwebs, or clouds. Hazy, unhelpful. He swiped them away with the backs of his hands. 

_ Can’t be out of wine! Not sleeping yet… _

Half-formed thoughts flickered through his brain; he could go to the store, but his wallet wasn’t in his pocket, and his eyes were still covered by those wet cobwebs. He wasn’t going to be able to find it, so buying more wine was out of the question. He didn’t have any friends; he didn’t know anyone who drank…

_ Yes… Yes I do… _

The cobwebs cleared as Thanatos walked to the open door onto his balcony and took off over the railing into the drizzling night. He followed the shining strip of obsidian pavement below as it left the core of Underworld’s metropolis and headed into the hills. Curving and dancing over the slopes and between the ridges, it wound like a snake through moss and heath and mist. 

And finally, the snake found its nest: the King’s glass-encased monumental house, glittering like diamond in the vast wilderness of Thanatos’ homeland. 

His heart was steady again at the knowledge of his goal so close at hand. He landed on the lichen-covered lawn and shifted to his misty ghost-form as he walked toward the glass wall separating him from the kitchen. 

_ Just in, grab a bottle, and get out before the dogs catch whiff of me. Don’t like dogs… Teeth… Loud teeth… _

The dark shapes of oven, island, cabinets, fridge loomed in the shadows, and Thanatos picked his way through the stillness as his other form faded.

_ Can’t carry the bottle if I’m all spooky-like… _

He opened the fridge, delighted by the rattling  _ clink _ of bottles of fermented sanctuary within the door. He grabbed two, and then a third, and cradled them as carefully as he could in his arms while the fridge tried to eat him alive. 

_ Naughty… That’s not for biting, at least not from you! _

He swayed his ass out of the way of the door, letting it  _ clank _ closed behind him. He moved to the island with his armload of precious cargo, thinking to adjust the bottles before he flew for home and a victory toast. 

A rough grumbling cough startled him so much that he jumped a foot into the air, crouching with his knees tucked against his sternum, the bottles haphazardly jumbled over his thighs and between his forearms. His wings flapped once, buffeting the kitchen towels hanging on the oven door, and billowing the dark robe around the midnight figure in the doorway…

“... _ Hades…” _ Relief washed over him as he drifted like a leaf to the tiles again. They were cold under his feet. Where did his shoes go? It was just Hades, which made sense. Hades liked wine; maybe they could share a glass or two?

“What. The.  _ Fuck _ . Are. You. Doing…?” The god’s voice was low, thunderous and threatening, and Thanatos let it shiver down his spine. It felt so good, sounded so  _ right _ , that he let it writhe down into his hips as he leaned against the island. 

“I’us getting a dhrinkh. Want one…?” He turned, wondering which cabinet held the glasses. He decided he could ask Hades; after all, the god lived here. He turned around again, and leaned back from how close Hades was to him. He leaned nearly too far, and the floor got slippery. His feet slid, and Hades’ hands closed around Thanatos’ arms. 

Pleasure like sleet pinged through his veins; sensation like lightning crashed across his nerves. Thanatos gasped and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Hades smelled  _ wonderful…  _ Like the cigars he smoked, like the wine he drank, like sweat and snow and slow-running conifer sap and the wood-ash left behind on the hearth. It was a scent thick enough to be a taste, and Thanatos wanted to taste it. He opened his mouth wider, letting it coat his tongue, slide down his throat. 

“What the hell are you doing in my house, Thanatos…?” The cerulean deity’s voice was softer now; there was a concern in his eyes that Thanatos hadn’t seen there in  _ eons _ . He struggled to bring his mind back from the delightfully naughty shadows where they’d been dancing along the edge since Hades’ fingers touched his shirt-sleeves. 

“I toldsh you. Wus gettin’ a dhrinkh.” He smiled, hoping it came off as teasing and lusty as he wanted it to. 

The distant concern in Hades’ fading-crimson eyes confused him as the god responded. “You broke into my house to steal wine…?”

“Di’n’t break nothin’!” Thanatos shoved against Hades’ chest, then left his hands there, feeling the warmth and solidness of the god’s muscles for the first time. “Didn’t even break the - um, bottle on my floor. It misshed the sink, see…” He was entranced by the silkiness of the black robe, how it wasn’t entirely opaque. Thanatos could  _ just _ see the faint gleam of scars through the fabric: a mosaic of silver starlight, a stream-bed network of life torn from pain’s wrenching jaws…

Hades’ fingers wrapped around Thanatos’ wrists, and the haze was back in his eyes; he took his hands from Hades’ chest and swiped them over his blurry eyes to clear his vision. 

“How much have you had to drink, Thanatos?” Was that laughter, or concern, that made the god’s voice softer still?

Thanatos scoffed; what kind of a question was that? “What kind of a quesshion is that? Not enough, of course! Not enough. I can ssstill hear ‘em…” He walked past Hades, gripping one of the bottles he’d put on the island and tugging at the cork with his free hand. The puffy thing resisted, and he grunted at it in irritation. 

“... Hear who…?” Hades’ voice came from behind him, but the cork was still being stupid, so Thanatos didn’t turn around. 

“All of them! They’re tired, and sick, and it doesn’t ever stop! They can’t get better, they can’t do what they need to do, and I’m tired for them! They want to sleep, but we can’t sleep! We never get what we want, and it’s just not fair!” Thanatos felt the bottle slip from his fingers, and he stared in shock as Hades’ hand swept in from nowhere and caught it before it smashed on the lip of the island’s marble. Hades set the bottle with its two fellows and then turned Thanatos by his shoulders until they were facing each other. 

“What do you want, Thanatos…?” 

Death looked at the King, and somehow, the truth seemed the best answer he could give.

“You, Aidoneus. I want you, but I don’t get to have you, and it hurts, and I just want it to not hurt tonight. Not when so many mortals are dying. Not when everything is so bad…”

Shadows flickered in fire-glinting eyes, and Thanatos couldn’t fathom what they might reveal. He watched Hades lick his lips; belatedly, the words the god spoke in a whisper filtered into his buzzing brain. 

“You never said… You need to sleep this off. Come with me.”

Hades guided Thanatos out of the kitchen and into a dark hallway deeper into the house. Thanatos’ shoulders prickled under Hades’ hands, but not all of that was from attraction. 

“Don’t wanna get bit, Aidoneus. Dogs bite me.”

“Behave, and my dogs won’t bite you.”  _ That _ was definitely humor. Sounded like the god was choking on it.  _ Good. _ “Here we go. In you get.” Big hands pushed and pulled him onto a soft mattress, carefully arranged him on one side so his wings weren’t pinched, tugged a sheet or two up and over to nestle under his arm and around his chest. 

“... Smells good…” Thanatos buried his nose in the pillow and breathed deep. A warm hand rested on his hip, thumb rubbing gentle circles, and Thanatos let the buzzing in his head and toes carry him to sleep...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... yeah.... yeah, that happened...
> 
> Sorry-not-sorry!
> 
> -Swoonie and the Muses who think they're funny in her headspace  
> 4 March 2021


End file.
